


I will always choose you

by wannabe_free



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabe_free/pseuds/wannabe_free
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To: Niall.</p><p>From: Zayn.</p><p>“Come with me to England. I'll wait for you on the bus, okay? Just, come with me, please, I'll choose you, okay? I'll choose you as long as you choose me. Xxx”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will always choose you

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed and written in two hours, English isn't my first language, so you know what to expect from this :)
> 
> Please, let me know what you think. :) xxx

**March the 4** **th**. _Dublin Airport, Ireland._

 

It's cold. The kind of cold that penetrates your bones regardless of how many layers you wear, however, Zayn chest burns with the force of a hundred suns as he sees Harry wounding his arms around Niall's tiny frame.

The rage surges up his stomach like acid corroding everything in it's path. It spreads across his lungs and up his larynx until it gets stuck in his throat and forms a lump that Zayn can't swallow.

He wants to go over there, push Harry's grabby hands away from Niall and demand an explanation. An explanation he knows he doesn't deserve. Instead, he clutches Perrie's hand tighter, until their fingers get clammy and slippery and she starts eyeing him funny.

 

**March the 5** **th** _Dublin. Afternoon. Concert_

 

Boom, boom. Poison running through his veins, burning hot and pulsating against his ears, his temple, his wrists... He watches, eyes dark with something dangerous and animalistic, as Harry takes Niall to the floor with him. There's a roar. They love it. The audience loves them. Aren't they sweet? As sweet as a cupcake, they say. All smiles and crinkled eyes. Around them, everything is green, but Zayn only tastes bitter, only sees red.

 

 **March the 5** **th** **,** _random hotel in Dublin. Night._

Niall opens the door, towel low on his hips and barefoot toes curling against the carpet.

For lack of invitation, Zayn lets himself in and lurges at Niall. He places his hand flat against the blonde's upper stomach and lets it slip down slowly and tantalizing, Niall's pale skin wet and warm under his figertips and slippery against Zayn's slightly rough palms as they trace over the bumpy chain of Niall's ribs, past the softness of his belly until it finds the towel and discards it to the floor.

Niall stands there, motionless and stark naked. It doesn’t feel erotic, though. It feels almost degrading as Zayn takes in the view in front of him and unabashedly watches Niall shrink on himself.

His hand find Niall's waist. He takes a step forward and all but latches himself at him; teeth chattering against teeth. Metal cutting on skin.

Their mouths slot together forcefully. Tongues unforgiving and hands burning against naked skin. Zayn takes all that he is given and more, until Niall tilts his head; lips out of reach.

“I have to get ready. You shoud leave.”

Zayn greets his teeth, too aware of where Niall has to go. His hands find Niall's ass and squeezes; bringing him closer and eliciting a moan from the blond.

“You are not going anywhere.” Zayn seethes.

Niall's arms wound around his shoulders trying to find balance when a finger starts to tease the sensitive skin around his the tight muscles of his entrance. He throws his head back, exposing his neck, closes his eyes and groans. Zayn attacks it ruthlessly, until it's raw and red and obscenely wet then slips a finger in the warmth of Niall's body who growls as he grinds down; Zayn's finger disappearing further into his body.

“This is all mine.” Zayn grunts and his nails scratch along bonny hips. “All mine.” He shoves another finger in forcefully eliciting a gutural moan.

The blond's legs waver a little and he fumbles desperately with Zayn button and zipper however, Zayn takes Niall's shaky hands in between his, stopping himk and Niall looks at him, impatient and desperate. “Not until you say it.” Zayn says still fighting against Niall's stubborn (and useless) attempts to unclasp his jeans.

 

“Fuck's sake, Zayn! I need you!”

“ Then say it, tell me that you are mine.” Zayn leans in, nibbles at his bottom lip, and sucks.

Niall seems to hesitate so Zayn takes his dick and starts pumping his wrist merciless. “Just say it already.” He breathes out.

Niall pushes his hips up, fucking Zayn's hand, leaning in and slanting their lips together, almost painfully, tongues wrestling for dominance until Zayn pulls apart and his hand stops any motion, resting hot around Niall's pulsating member.

“Say it.”

Niall looks at him for a short moment and pulls away completely. His hard cock hits agaisnt his stomach with a soft wet thud and he starts moving around the room, choosing random clothes and trying to ignore the pain from his groin. Zayn watches him as he bends over to put on some underwear; his arse cheeks still red from when Zayn gripped before.

“Are you going out with him?”

Niall doesn’t turn over but Zayn notices the way he strokes his length fleetingly trying to sooth the pain.

“And you are going to her” Niall retorts matter of factly.

Zayn nods his head, and it's stupid because Niall can't see him right now, but he's afraid his voice might crack if he tries to verbally answer him. Niall turns around and watches him. Eyes hard and muscles tense, waiting for a reaction, so Zayn forces himself to speak.

“Okay. Go right ahead.” he says with a tight voice. “Have fun.”

“Yeah. You too,”

Zayn shakes his head, face contorted in disgust and disappointment.

 _Boom, boom._ The poison.

 

**March the 7** **th** **.** _On the road._

 

Zayn looks out the window; a vast stretch of green, blue and yellow as they drive through a lone road which never seems to end. The whole bus sleeps and Zayn sits on his hands trying to keep them warm. His bed is cold now that Perrie isn't there to warm it up and there's a strange void in his stomach. For all Zayn knows, it could be hunger or it could be loneliness.

 

He gets up. Slowly, quietly, he walks towards the area of the bunks.

He makes out Liam's breathing, deep and impossibly slow, and Louis, whose breath hitches every once in a while, and Harry, who makes funny noises with his tongue.

 

Niall lays silent and still taking as little space as possible. He sleeps shirtless, too, because he gets all hot and flustered when he drinks, and he drank yesterday. With Harry, again, after the frigging concert. They disappeared together into the night, shoulders bumping against each other, hands brushing every once in a while.

Zayn hesitates before climbing up to Niall's bunk and he wonders why he acts so insecure around the blonde. Niall is his. Was his last time he checked. Has been his for a year now. He doesn't need permission to sleep next to him, or to kiss him, or to take him whenever he wants because Niall is his. There's a space next to the sleeping blond _ a vacant space just big enough for Zayn to fit in_ and Zayn wonders how long will it be vacant. How long until somebody else claims that space to never give it back.

For the time being, though, Zayn slips under the covers, his arms twisting in awkward angles and his legs kicking Niall's on the process, but it's all worth it once he edges his body towards the blond and presses himself against him, chin hooked over Niall's skinny shoulder and arm lazily sprawled over the warm skin of Niall's hip who unconsciously arches his body flush against Zayn's.

 

 **March the 9** **th** _Belfast,_ _Ireland_. Way too fucking early. Promotion.

Zayn observes Harry and Niall snuggling up together in a tiny armchair. Niall on top with Harry's arms sneaking their way around the blond's waist. Harry's chin hooked over Niall's shoulder; his laugh breathy against Niall's ear.

Perrie is on the phone. He can't concentrate on her words over the sound of the poison pulsating in his ears. She laughs and he laughs too because that seems the right thing to do. It's what they are doing, Niall and Harry. Laughing together oblivious to the flashes from the cameras, the fans, management..

It's easy for Harry. Harry who has a zillion fans on twitter, Harry who hangs out with gay people all the time; with people who couldn't care less. Harry who wasn't raised in any particular religion, who doesn't have to act accordingly to any particular beliefs.

 

But for Zayn the implications of publicly loving Niall are different. His family is very conservative. His friends homophobic and close minded. Then, there's the thought of telling the world. All those unknown faces who get to know every single detail about his life. Those who still think of him as a terrorist, a jihadist, a fucked up junkie. Those who have never given him a chance to explain himself.

 

 

 **March the 9** **th** . Hotel in Belfast, Ireland. Late.

 

Zayn studies Niall's palm; his fingers trace deep lines pretending to know what they mean.

Niall shifts closer, their knees bumping together as they lay facing each other on the bed.

“How long I am going to live?” Niall's voice is soft as he stares at the older boy.

Zayn frowns, lips pursed in mock concentration. His finger slips along one of the lines, stopping at the pulse point at the wrist.

“Mmmm. Old, I think, like, very very old and wrinkly.”

Niall checks at his palm and then takes Zayn's and holds it close to his face, his eyes narrowed.

“And you, how long do you get to live?”

Zayn smirks at the question and takes a glance at his own hand.

“Not so long, you see? Like fifty years or so. Must be the fucking cigarettes. Looks like you'll outlive me.”

Niall frowns and he actually seems distressed. “But I don't want to outlive you”He exclaims. He takes Zayn's hand even closer, breath washing over it, “You must have looked wrong.”

“No, see, it's clear. 50 years, 55 at the most. You'll have to pay for my tomb.”

Niall lets go of his hand. He shifts to straddle Zayn's hips with his knees and kisses him desperately.

“Then I'll start smoke too.” Niallwhispers after a while when they lay on the bed next to each other; very stilll, naked and sweaty; their chests heaving as they look at the ceiling.

“Will you?”

Niall feels his way around the bed to find Zayn's hand and squeezes. “Of course," He croaks, "why would I want to live for so long, if I'm alone?”

Zayn edges his body even closer to the blond. He noses at Niall's hairline and kisses at the top of his head, letting out a soft chuckle and his chest constricts painfully. 

“Yeah, why would you...”

 

 **March the 11** **th** On the road. _Too fucking late._

 

Harry and Niall stumble their way into the bus at two in the morning drunk as Zayn has never seen them before, leaning agaisnt each other for support. Zayn regrets ever waiting awake as he takes in Niall's pitiful state.

Harry barely seems to register him. He asks Niall if he's coming to the bunks and when the blond shakes his head, he walks away from their sight awakening everyone on his way.

Zayn closes the lid of his laptop and puts it aside ready to go to bed. However, he stops dead on his tracks when he sees Niall walk towards him, swaying ever so slightly until he stops right in front of Zayn, who places his hands on his hips to steady the blonde as he hovers over him.

Niall smiles down at him stupidly, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Zayn smiles right back, fingers sliping down Niall's t-shit to touch the skin underneath, knuckles rubing against the bumps of his bony hips and Niall closes his eyes and sucks air into his lungs shakily. Zayn shakes him a little to make sure he doesn't fall asleep standing as he is and Niall opens his eyes; blinking blearily a couple of times as he tries to focus _ his dilated pupils landing on Zayn and a drowsy smile tugging at his lips. His arms encircle around Zayn's neck and me moves to straddle his lap, legs locking around his waist, and sweaty forehead leaning against Zayn', who closes his eyes for a short moment and breathes him in.

Soon, he feels Niall's teeth nibbling at his neck; tongue swirling along the abused area sootightly afterwards. The blond kisses along his neck and up his jaw, coming nearer to his lips with each passing second. Finally, Niall licks along Zayn’s bottom lip and the older boy reacts, bringing a hand to Niall's chest to ensure he won't try to kiss him again.

“Stop, Perrie is here, she's sleeping in my bunk.”

Zayn studies Niall's expression trying to gauge his reaction and wonders if the blond has processed his words at all because he starts grinding down his hips to meet Zayn's unresponsive ones. Finally, he stops and goes limp in Zayn's arms.

 

“Ni, what's going on with you and Harry?”

There are a few beats of silence as Niall readjustes himself on Zayn's lap to get a better look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you... are you choosing him over me?”

Niall blinks down at him and tries to style Zayn's messy quiff.

“There is no choice to make, really,”

Zayn tilts his head, and frowns, “Is that a yes, then? Will you choose him?”

Niall looks at him squarely in the eye and smiles sadly, “I'd choose you anyday, you know? If only you would choose me, too.”

There's a stony silence, and Zayn flinches. He watches as Niall baby blue eyes become watery and he reaches out to touch but the blond is already getting up to his feet.“It's fine, Zayn, I'll be fine. Harry will take care of me now.” He murmurs.

The lump in Zayn's throat in now too big to swallow and the only thing left to do is to cry.

 

**March the 12** **th** _A posh room in a posh hotel near the airport,_ _Belfast, Ireland._

 

“Aren't you packing?”

Niall jumps out of his skin, startled at the intrusion and Zayn glances at Niall's battered suitcase laying on the floor open and unmade. The blond shrugs and gazes at Zayn warily.

“I might be staying here for a couple of days.” He says.

Zayn shifts on his feet and frowns, “Is he... um, will he stay, too?”

Niall looks away feetlingly, Adam apple bobing up and down. “I think so, he was the one who asked me to stay.”

Zayn swallows uneasily, “Yeah...”

They look at each other for the longest time. The time it takes Zayn to muster enough courage to ask what he wants to ask, “Niall, can I kiss you?”

Niall flushes, taken aback by the intensity in Zayn's eyes. With raspy voice, he says, “Yeah.”

Zayn takes a couple of steps forward, and Niall does the rest. Zayn's hands settle tentatively on Niall's side and on Niall's small back and they stare at each other again, this time their noses bumping together until Niall places his hand at the back of Zayn's head and brings him closer.

Zayn feels his heartstrings pull when their lips _finally_ meet. He scootes even closer and his tongue darts out to swip along the seam of Nialls lips, pushing in to meet with Niall's as soon as the blond allows him. Their lips slip together easily, in a dance they have memorised now.

 

**March the 12** **th** _A posh room in a posh hotel near the airport,_ _Belfast, Ireland. 11 pm._

 

_To: Niall._

_From: Zayn._

 

“ _Come with me to England. I'll wait for you on the bus, okay? Just, come with me, please, I'll choose you, okay? I'll choose you as long as you choose me . Xxx”_

 

_**March the 13th** _ _Early, a bus parked outside a posh hotel near the airport, Belfast, Ireland, way too early to be awake._

“Zayn, we have to leave in 2 minutes if we want to be on time.”

Zayn nibbles at the skin of his forefinger and tries to block out the voice of the driver. Liam is already asleep, and Louis, whose IPAD is blasting to The beatles, sends him a questioning look.

He gets up and walks out of the bus; tells the driver he wants to smoke one last cigarrete before they leave, if only to make time.

He slips a hand in his pocket, his shoulders tense and hunched over to protect himself from the freezing gusts of air and he lets the nicotine sooth the nerves and the cold. After ten minutes he understands that he can't drag the moment any longer because he will burn his figers if he takes any other drag at the cigarrete. He sighs and throws it to the floor resignatedly; foot flattening it against the floor and his guts twists with dissapointment when he realizes that this is the moment,. That he has lost Niall.

He makes his way back to the bus, collapses on one of the couches and shuts his eyes tigthly to prevent the tears from spilling. Suddenly, Louis says,

“Isn't that Niall? I thought he was staying?”

Zayn opens his eyes, brown orbs wide and alert, he sits up and ventures a glance out the window, jumps to his feet and rushes toward the door of the bus. He jumps to the pavement and all but runs towards the blond who struggles to walk with all his heavy luggage. They meet halfway, and Niall drops his suitcases and looks at him, with curiosity.

“You came.” Zayn whispers as his eyes dart around to take a look at Niall's luggage almost in awe.

The blond shrugs and readjustes his bag on his shoulder.

“If we only have 50 years to live we might as well make the most of it, right?”

Zayn jumps forwards, his arms threading around Niall's frame to hug him close to his chest, tilting his head to pepper kisses along Niall's cheek aware of the fans shooting photos at them from the other side of the railings and, as he kisses, he feels the skin down his lips stretching into a wide smile.

“Here, help me,” Niall bends down and grabs one of the heaviest suitcases, hands it to Zayn who frowns and rolls his eyes, trying not to smile, “ 50 years, you said?” asks the older man.

Niall shrugs his shoulders, and smirks.

“55, at the most.”

 


End file.
